


Five Moments in Lessale's life

by Merfilly



Series: To Fill the Void [1]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lessale, youngest son of Ruatha, and his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Moments in Lessale's life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EllieMurasaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/gifts).



> I was dubious on doing this, as I hate taking away a strong woman from canon. So treat this merely as a what-if, and forgive me for liberties taken.

1\. Nip was not accustomed to being noticed. He was willing to blame the canine bristling at him that had drawn the attention, but the small boy peering up at him was a potential threat to his mission here.

"You're not of the hold."

"I'm on my way to the weavers," he said easily, for Ruatha's branch of the weaving craft was renowned for their laces and fabrics.

"You're not dyed like a weaver."

//Sharp eyes.// "Now, I didn't say I was a weaver, just that I was going there," Nip answered. //Light eyes, dark hair… small-boned like the Lady; is this one of Lord Kale's sons?//

"The spit hound doesn't like your smell, and thinks you mean harm."

"And how do you know that?"

"I can tell."

Nip evaluated his next answer carefully; if this was the youngest of the Ruathan brood, Nip didn't need him running off to prattle to the Lady or the Lord. Yet, something in that answer… he crouched down to be more of an eye-level. "I carry messages, young sir. To and from and into danger,, and out again. The canine probably smells the winds of the Reaches on me, and they are no friend to any."

The boy's eyes went wide a moment, and then he composed himself rapidly. "How do I know you don't carry messages to the Reaches that can harm my Hold?"

Nip smiled at that. "Because, like you know what the canine thinks of me, you can tell I mean no harm, can't you?"

The boy narrowed his focus, and Nip felt a pressure as if his very brain was being touched, and then the boy smiled. "I can… and you knew it."

Nip shrugged. "Not many like you, but it's likely the dragonblood in your hold." He held his hand out to the boy. "You see me, you promise to look out for me and listen to my messages?"

The boy took the hand offered as best he could and shook. "I will, so long as you look out for my Hold."

"Then call me Nip, young sir."

"Lessale."

2\. Youngest of a brood of boys that mean headaches and little gain for Lord Kale, Lessale often absconded from his room with his two next-oldest brothers to find time and freedom for himself. Chores were often shoved down to him by the older ones, and neither of his parents had time for him as rumors of dastardly things continued to alarm Lady Adessa and Lord Kale swore no harm could come.

It was that need for time and solitude of his own that saved Lessale, even if he had no idea what to do when he first spied the men on the wall. Jarg, the watchwher, could not even see them, as they came with the breaking sun, blinding him to their pursuit. He thought to speed his way back into the Hold, to raise the cry, but naked steel dripping red already was in the hands of those few men Lessale could see at a distance.

He had to hide, to survive… and he threw all his will at Jarg to make the wher howl and raise the alarm. It might be too late, but perhaps… maybe it would save someone. With the wher howling and causing the alarm to spread, Lessale raced for the runner sheds, throwing the gates open and lifting the stall bar by sheer desperation. As the stallion came, Lessale was ready, grabbing mane and kicking off one of the stools to ride low on his back as the prize herd scattered out, away from the Hold and toward their foraging fields. 

It was a dangerous ploy, but between the alarm of the wher and the resistance it caused the invaders, Lessale and the runners were soon out of immediate danger. Whether there would be anything to go back to was for another day.

3\. Nip had not hoped for survivors of the massacre he'd been too slow to go warn of. As he hastened back toward Fort Hold, he had not thought to find a runnerbeast without tack moving at a swift pace with a small body on its back. He whistled with the Ruathan herder signal, and that brought the beast to a slower pace, though his head plunged and the rider tried in vain to send him back to a run.

"Lessale?" Nip called, low and sharp as he recognized the boy more by size than anything. He brought his own runner up to a gallop, overtaking the rider and beast to see the boy was unharmed. "You live!" He got his runner as close as the stallion would allow and reached… and unsurprisingly, even this boy's stoic nature broke, and he moved to grip Nip's arm fervently.

"They didn't listen, they weren't ready, I ran…"

Nip could hear the fear and guilt already mingling, and he swallowed hard. There was no doubt in his mind this was the last of Ruatha's once prodigious bloodline.

"Well you did, young Lord," Nip said, granting him his title, even if there was doubt on ever holding Ruatha now. "You live, and we'll soon have you safe to Fort. Hold on to your boy there, and we'll keep putting the hills behind us."

Lessale was exhausted enough by his emotions and the day he'd had to do just as he was told.

4\. Lord Groghe listened to the words of the young Lordling, then to MasterHarper Robinton, who had Nip's report. He clenched his jaw throughout, and then threw his hands up. "I'm all for riding out with force, Robinton. You know I am. I've wanted to curtail the illness he is for years! But if we advertise Lessale's presence as a living heir, before he can firmly command, we'd be sentencing him to death as surely as that bronze rider you were so fond of!"

Robinton could not help the way his hands tightened on the boy's shoulders, keeping him in front of his body to provide some form of support to the last survivor of a noble line. "Tell the conclave an heir exists. I will protect him until he is of age. But something must be done about Ruatha! Fax has abrogated every concept of Holding with this move!"

"And if they do nothing?" Groghe asked.

"Then, when I am of age, I will do as Fax, and have my hold, my people, back by force of arms!" Lessale declared.

Neither adult could refute him, though it unnerved them both to see such raw determination in a boy just barely ten turns old.

5\. Under cover of the panic that had stirred in Pern because the dragonmen Searched, Lessale pulled his men and women together. Ten turns, he had waited. Ten turns that had seen him learn to fight, learn the ways of knowledge, and eventually court the remaining rightful Lords of the Holds closest to his own lands.

It so happened that his force infiltrated the poorly kept hold on the very night of feast Fax gave to the dragonriders he so despised. Lessale's raiders moved through the holes in security like ghosts, and decidedly dispatched anyone in their way. Drudges who might have been afraid enough to shout warning were eliminated by cloths coated in a compound from the Healers; they would wake to better masters, Lessale vowed. Soldiers, though…

On a distant level, it pained Lessale to drench Ruatha in such blood again. He kept his goal in place, though, and firmly shut up the dragons as soundly as he had made Jarg quiet down. Quick, clandestine movements into the half-empty Hold took him and his faithful guards to the dining hall.

"Live or die, this is my fight," Lessale told them.

"Barla's have my hide, I don't keep you safe… but I'll not interfere with the fight against Fax," Dowell avowed.

"Then let us take back our birthright. No dragonman is to be harmed, but Fax's men… must be kept from saving their leader."

With that, Lessale burst into the hall…and all became chaos for riders, soldiers, and raiders alike as Lessale declared himself.

"I am Lessale, youngest son of Kale and Adessa, last heir of Ruatha, and you will die tonight, Fax!"

Fax, having been focused on a tense moment with the leader of the dragonriders, was caught unaware, but not so much that he wasn't prepared for the fight. He was heavier, older… but still crafty and fighting-able. Lessale was at a disadvantage on reach and strength, yet had trained with those disadvantages his whole life. Dimly, Lessale heard Dowell marshal the defense against interference… surprisingly supported by the riders.

"Should have let yourself be slaughtered in the crib, boy," Fax growled.

"I would say the same of you!" Lessale shouted, before using his smaller size and speed to his advantage. 

They were the last words, as the deadly dance grew more intimate with ever pass, half a dozen wounds from quick, light strikes doing damage to Fax's reserves. When the self-styled Lord of Seven Holds realized he was slowly dying with every blow, he gathered himself to press a decisive strike… and Lessale moved just enough to let the momentum add strength to his own well-placed blade.

Fax hit the floor, and Lessale turned to see if there was a challenge to defend against almost in the same motion, knowing how deeply buried his knife was in the man. His hands were empty… but no one stood to challenge him.

A small gasp of pain drew Lessale's eyes to the heavily pregnant lady at the side of the dragonrider… and there was an instant's flare of hatred as he saw his distant cousin and the fact she carried the seed of his nemesis. Yet, the child was not to blame, and his line was already so thin…

"I am Lord here," he said, daring anyone to countermand him. "Someone get the Lady Gemma aid, and Dowell… as my Warder, see to cleaning up the remnants. Send someone to the drums, and call to Fort, swiftly. Dragonriders, my apologies for this affrontery while you were on Search, but Fax's tyranny was in dire need of being ended."

"I say Ruatha has acted wisely," the bronze rider, by his shoulder knots, said. Lessale stood straight and as tall as he could for that affirmation.


End file.
